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“Tell me something, Asher,” the Queen says, turning to look at the company logo on the wall. “Do you always go after foolish women when you want a quick lay? Do you always tell them you’re too busy to see them afterward?”
“I wouldn’t call you foolish.” I pour two drinks, sliding one across the table toward her.
“So that’s a yes?” She arches a brow, swinging her icy gaze to meet mine.
I throw my drink back, swallowing it in one gulp. Putting the empty glass down, I shake my head. “I never planned for that to happen.”
“What, you and me?”
I nod, throat tightening. “And coming here. I meant it when I said I was busy in Farcliff.”
She stares at me for a moment, as if she’s trying to gauge whether I’m lying or not. “I didn’t think it would happen either, but I was stupid enough to follow you to that dirty room. Stupid enough to bend over like you wanted me to.”
Images flash in my mind, and I will myself to keep my face steady. There’s so much bitterness in her voice that it makes my heart ache. “Do you regret it that much?”
“Hmm, let’s see,” Penelope says, taking a step toward me to lean over the desk that separates us. She smells like sweet candy with a hint of rose. “You made me feel like a cheap, used whore, then walked away without saying goodbye. So, yes, I regret it.”
“There’s nothing cheap about you, Pen, and you used me as much as I did you.”
“Is that right?” Her delicate fingers touch the edge of her glass of whiskey, and I half-expect her to grip it tight and toss it at my face. Instead, she drinks it down as fast as I did, grimacing. “You have terrible taste in whiskey.”
“That’s the nicest thing you’ve said to me all day.”
“Fuck you.”
“Aren’t you supposed to be the Queen? That’s no way for a monarch to talk.”
Fire sparks in the pit of my gut when Penelope’s hands grip the edge of the desk. I can taste her anger on my tongue, and I want more. I want to taste every part of her. Angry, hot, and alive.
“I will never let you work here. You can take your father’s business and walk away right now, because the Gerhard Corporation will not do business in Nord, Asher.”
A groan escapes my lips before I can stop it. It’s just…the way she says my name makes my gut clench. I haven’t felt this alive in years. I keep my face steady, my gaze clashing with hers. “Why not? I haven’t even applied for a business license. As far as you’re concerned, I’m a tourist…a tourist with an office in downtown Stirling.”
“And it’s going to stay that way.” Her eyes don’t leave mine, and—I want to kiss her. Right here. Like this. I want to stalk to the other side of this desk, roll that designer dress over her waist, and bury myself inside her. I want to swallow her anger whole and have her come apart on my cock.
I want everything she’ll give me. Every part of her. Anything. All of it.
Catching her fingers across the desk before she can move away, I press my lips against them.
Penelope gasps, her eyes widening. Yanking her hand away, she slaps me across the face. Hard. I suck in a breath, gripping the edge of my chair. Pain explodes across my cheek as I grunt, turning back to face her.
“I could have you arrested, Asher.” There’s an edge to her voice now. A slight tremble. The ice is cracking.
I shouldn’t taunt her, but I like seeing her like this. I like watching her come apart. The mask is slipping, and I feel like I’m seeing the real her—even if she wants to slap me around and throw me in jail. A wicked, smoky smile spreads across my face. “Does that involve handcuffs? Because I could get on board with that.”
The Queen slaps me again, harder this time. I probably deserve it. I gasp, skin burning. My teeth grind together and I speak through a clenched jaw. “That wasn’t very nice.”
“Neither was you using me then tossing me aside without even telling me you’d be coming here. You said you were too busy for Nord. Too busy for me.” Her bottom lip trembles ever so slightly as her eyes grow watery.
Is that why she’s mad? Because I came here without telling her? Because I left Gabriel’s wedding without talking to her? My heart twists painfully. I…I don’t want her to look at me like that, like I’m the cause of her pain. Dropping my head, I shake it from side to side. “I’m sorry, Pen.” Glancing up, I meet her gaze. “I mean, Your Majesty. Please don’t arrest me.”
Penelope sinks into a chair across from me, deflating as she leans back. She looks…exhausted. Worn out.
Hurt.
Because of me?
When I was in my father’s office, I didn’t think she’d pay me a visit. I thought I’d never see her again. I thought, maybe, she wouldn’t even notice, even though I hoped… I don’t know what I hoped. Maybe I hoped for exactly this. I wanted to see her again, but she’s a queen and what am I? I’m not someone beautiful women chase. With these scars covering my body, I’m the one who makes pretty women run away. I’d never deserve someone like her.
